Fire, Surfacing

Surely a bright October afternoon wasn’t supposed to be so cold, Sam thought irritably, as she added another log to the fire. She poked the wood carefully, setting it on top of those that were already burning down into brightly glowing coals. Replacing the poker with the rest of the hearth tools, she settled back into her nest, then frowned thoughtfully.

All things considered, she thought she’d done an excellent job of making herself comfortable. After three weeks or more as a brainwashed slave on an ice planet, she was damned if she’d just lie in bed, hoping that her body heat would eventually warm up the covers enough to suit her.

As soon as she’d received medical clearance, she’d been out of the base like a shot. Once home, she’d luxuriated in the hottest bath she could stand. Her fingertips were still wrinkly. Then, she’d dragged several blankets in front of the fire, placed her unzipped down-filled sleeping bag on top of that, added flannel sheets to the mix, then the cozy down comforter she usually saved for the blizzards that Colorado Springs seemed to get at least twice a year.

In spite of that, her feet were still cold. Grimacing against the cool air outside her nest of blankets, Sam dashed to her bedroom. She yanked open the top drawer of her dresser and pulled out a pair of wool socks she used for hiking. The orange yarn clashed rather nicely with her purple long johns, she decided, tugging them on and then sprinting back to the blankets.

Lying down in front of the fire, Sam sighed with contentment. She was clean, the air around her didn’t smell of grease, metal, and unwashed workers, and she was warm. The only thing missing was food, but she wasn’t yet hungry enough to feel motivated to order anything to be delivered.

Well, she admitted to herself, there was one other thing missing. One other person, if she really wanted to be honest with herself. Which she didn’t. When had honesty become such a pain in the ass?

Jonah. She wanted him here with her. Only he wasn’t Jonah, he was Colonel Jack O’Neill, United States Air Force, and her commanding officer. Which meant her traitorous thoughts about him would get her into more trouble than she’d care to experience. Alas, common sense didn’t do a thing to ease the band of cold that she’d felt settle about her chest as their memories had returned. She’d deliberately reminded both of them about the protocols that held them apart, and when she remembered the look of bitter acceptance on his unshaven face, she wondered if anything could make her feel warm again in this lifetime.

* * * *

Sam awoke to banging. At first, unsure where she was, her thoughts went to the pressure gauges. Was there going to be another explosion in the plant? But when she opened her eyes, it was only her den that was filled with flickering orange shadows from the fire. Glancing at the clock, she confirmed that she’d been asleep for at least three hours.

The banging and pounding continued. Still a bit disoriented from sleep, Sam couldn’t figure out what it was until she also heard a muffled curse. Of course, she groaned to herself. Someone was at the door.

Jumping up, she raced to the door and glanced quickly through the peephole, before hauling it open.

“Sorry, Colonel,” she apologized, wincing, “Come in.” When he hesitated, an uncertain look crossing his face, she sharpened her tone. “Colonel, it’s freezing outside. Come in or stay out, but make up your mind, sir!”

With an answering grimace, he quickly stepped inside, the door slamming behind him as a gust of wind surged outside. “That’s what I like about your invitations, Carter. They’re so gracious.” Shrugging out of his coat, he looked more closely at her attire. “Nice outfit.”

She rolled her eyes and firmly stifled a blush. “Thanks, sir. Why are you here?”

O’Neill looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “Fraiser told me... there might be some initial confusion at first. With our memories,” he clarified. “I’m still a bit confused about some of the things rattling around in my head. So I thought I’d make sure that everyone’s okay.”

“Oh.” Sam moved back over to her nest in front of the fire and picked up a blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders. “Well, aside from feeling like I can’t get warm enough, I think I’m all right, sir.”

“I’m glad at least one of us is,” he grumbled halfheartedly, sitting down on the sofa. “I keep having these thoughts, and I don’t know whether it’s me thinking them, or him....”

“Jonah,” she said softly, finishing his sentence. “Yeah. When I woke up, I thought I was back in the power plant.”

He didn’t reply, but looked at her with a lost expression. Jonah had looked at Thera in a similar manner, Sam remembered, as though he didn’t know what the future held, but that he was certain she’d come up with a solution. Unfortunately, Sam knew what Thera didn’t. There would be no happy solution delivered to them. It was just back to depressing reality, where he had no business looking at her in such a manner. With their imprinted personalities and their real selves battling for precedence as their memories surfaced, the return to their normal lives couldn’t come fast enough for her. But that was probably just because she was a self-admitted control freak. Predictability was safe. Colonel Jack O’Neill sitting on her sofa was not.

Sam cleared her throat. If the Colonel was still feeling a bit confused on what was and wasn’t appropriate, she’d be wise to get him out the door and away from her. It was hard enough standing firm in her convictions when he wasn’t right in front of her looking like a puppy afraid it would be kicked. “Do you want me to call Daniel, sir?”

He frowned. “You can’t. He and Teal’c volunteered to help get the refugees settled. They’re already off to that tropical beach planet.”

Warmth. Sam shivered again. “I wish they’d told me,” she laughed. “I’d do anything to get warm.”

She stopped laughing when the expression on his face changed. “Would you?” he inquired softly.

Turning away, Sam headed towards her kitchen cabinets. “I’ve got some hot chocolate,” she said quickly. “I could make us some, that would help--”

“Don’t.” O’Neill’s hand on her shoulder made her jump. As she landed, her socks slipped on the floor. Sam began to flail her arms, only to get them caught in the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Helplessly, she fell back against O’Neill, knocking him back onto the sofa. She landed in a heap at his feet.

Sam buried her face in the blanket and groaned. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, sir,” she demanded. Looking back up at him, she saw his eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Thera,” he smiled. “What’s wrong?”

Sam tossed the blanket aside and went to put more wood on the fire. “That’s not my name anymore, sir,” she replied in quiet reproach. She heard a muttered curse behind her but kept her eyes on the fire and sat back down on her pile of blankets.

“Hell, Carter, I don’t know why I called you that.”

“Respectfully, sir, you seem to be having trouble with your memories. And since that’s the case, I don’t think you should be here.” She paused a moment, thinking. “I can call Dr. Fraiser, and have her--”

“No.”

Well, if they were going to debate this, she might as well stay warm. Before turning to face the Colonel, Sam pulled a blanket over her legs. Looking at him surreptitiously, she shook her head with frustration. The difference between what she wanted to do and ought to do was a pain in the ass. And yes, she was fully aware of the contradictions between the frequent desire to jump him and her liking for nice, neat, predictable situations.

Thera hadn’t had any reason for such restraint. Thera had definite ideas in mind for what she wanted to do with Jonah, Sam remembered, and only their returning memories had denied the woman’s plans. A section of the plant that had been closed down until repairs could be made, a few blankets and a portable heater smuggled to a hidden alcove... A few more days as brainwashed workers, and Thera would have taken Jonah on a little field trip and shown him how it truly was an honor to serve.

And now Colonel O’Neill was sitting on her sofa looking lost and confused... and lustful, truth be told. Sam didn’t know whether to feel sorry or relieved that Thera and Jonah hadn’t had their tryst. If anything, her commanding officer looked more confused now than when his memories first started coming back and she’d reminded him of their working relationship.

She should call Janet, she told herself firmly. The Colonel obviously needed some distance from her until the memories imprinted upon him had a chance to dissipate.

But... he’d come to her. He felt disoriented, and ended up here. How many times had she dreamed of this happening? Yes, she’d always felt guilty when she’d awoken. Yet here he was, on her sofa, looking at her as though she was the only thing in the universe. The past few months had been hard for both of them, on top of a few more years of continuous conflict. The exhilaration she got from going through the Stargate didn’t cancel out all the horrible things they’d run into on the course of their travels. Sam knew those experiences had taken their toll on her in the form of sleepless nights, occasional loss of appetite followed by junk food and coffee binges with Daniel, and the gradual pulling away from the outside world. Jack kept things tightly locked away. How bad must he have been feeling to come to her? And how could she forgive herself if she turned him away when he needed her?

Days later, Sam would wonder if the memories of the zatarc testing and the lingering grief over Martouf’s death had interfered with her knowledge of right and wrong. For now, the overriding thought in her mind, besides how much she loved and desired the man sitting in front of her, was the idea that if they were caught, they could always claim the brainwashing hadn’t worn off quite as soon as had been expected.

She made her decision. Moving the blankets aside, she gestured for him to join her in front of the fire. “Jonah? I’m cold.”

He never once hesitated. Kicking off his shoes, he moved towards her. “I’ll keep you warm,” he promised softly.

* * * *

Sam shivered uncontrollably as Jack’s lips trailed down her throat.

“Still cold?” he murmured against her skin.

“No, not... that!” she gasped out before pulling away from him. His eyes were alight with desire, sparkling in the firelight that cast its shadows into the darkening room. Grinning, he laughed, then stole another kiss. Sam had to think for a moment to remember why she’d moved away in the first place. Clothes! That was it. “Don’t move,” she whispered.

“Why not?”

Obstinate man. “So I can do this,” she replied, swiftly unbuttoning his soft flannel shirt and pushing it from his shoulders. “You have too many clothes on,” she scolded him, tugging his T-shirt from his pants.

“Cold weather,” he retorted. “You don’t want me getting frostbitten, do you?”

Sam laughed. Oh, later there’d be time for self-recrimination, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy. Fumbling with his belt buckle, she bent her head down to his chest, brushing her cheek against the scattering of hair. Jack gladly fell back against the blankets as she unzipped his jeans, and raised his hips to aid her in their removal.

Unable to help herself, Sam started laughing even harder.

“What?”

“Neon yellow boxer shorts?” They even had smiley faces on them.

“They were clean,” he defended himself. “And I don’t see that you have much grounds to tease me, when you’re wearing purple long johns and bright orange socks.” Sitting back up, he trailed his fingers across her collarbone. “Personally,” he told her with studied nonchalance, “I think the only way either of us are going to be able to keep a straight face is if we take off all our clothes right now.”

She couldn’t help herself. She must be smiling like a lunatic, but it was impossible to repress. “Do you insist?”

“I do,” he murmured, quickly stripping off his underwear, then grasping the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head.

Soon, both of them were clad only in the flickering shadows of firelight as they embraced on the blankets. Sam let out an involuntary shriek as they rolled onto the cool hardwood floor, then laughed again as Jack shifted her back to the blankets.

“This would be a lot easier if you’d stop laughing,” he teased her.

“I can’t help it,” she retorted, snickering. “It’s been so long since I had a reason.” That comment brought her up short, and she quieted, brushing her hand gently across his face. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The tender expression on his face grew more serious. “You’ve got no call to give me any credit, Sam,” he told her.

Raising up on her elbows, she scattered kisses across all the exposed skin within reach. “Let’s not keep score, Jack, okay?”

With a muffled groan of agreement he lowered himself down into her embrace, and their lovemaking began in earnest.

Sam arched her head into the fabric beneath her at the first touch of his mouth on her breasts. God, it had been so long since she’d been with anyone. There had been offers occasionally, but even before she’d come to realize that her heart belonged to the man in her arms, she’d not been inclined for casual sex. And this situation with Jack was anything but casual -- it was dangerous to their careers and possibly their lives if they let their feelings for each other interfere with their work. But she’d wanted him for so long, and grieved with each reminder that their feelings were forbidden. Maybe it was the lingering echo of Thera’s rebellion against authority. Maybe it was just Sam Carter reaching out to what she wanted for a change. As the sensation of Jack’s mouth tugging and sucking on her breasts spread through her body, the only consequence Sam cared about was how long this ecstasy could last.

When Jack began moving down her body to kiss her stomach, Sam finally stirred herself from her languorous daze. “Not yet,” she smiled, sitting up and embracing him. Jack caught her mouth in a passionate kiss, clinging desperately to her. Sam shuddered with the realization that all his attention was focused on her and the passion they aroused in each other.

“I need to taste you,” he rasped, and her breath caught at the wildness in his eyes.

“You will,” she promised, pushing him down to lie on his side. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t get to have any fun.”

His chest shook with suppressed laughter. “I’d feel insulted that you think I wouldn’t give you a good time if I didn’t know what your intentions were.”

Sam grinned, stretching out with her feet by his head. “You have better things to do with that mouth than talk, Flyboy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he retorted, then moaned as she leaned forward and rubbed his hardened penis against her cheek.

Breathing in the scent of his skin, Sam sighed with anticipation. Jack’s body was firm and strong from the active life they led as a field unit. The hairs at his chest and groin had their fair share of grey, but he was every bit as arousing as she’d let herself fantasize. Not to mention insistent, she thought to herself, as his shaft twitched beneath her hand. Giving in to her desire, she began trailing her tongue up and down his hardened flesh. His soft groan in response was a goad for her to continue.

“Oh, God... Sam,” he gasped, as she lowered her mouth over his aching flesh. “Let’s see -- ah! -- how you like this--”

Sam trembled at the first touch of his mouth between her legs and the welcome rush of pleasure that gathered in her stomach. Even as he ran his tongue lightly across her clitoris, she grasped his sac in one hand, rolling his balls as she sucked harder on his shaft. The next few minutes saw a competition of the most delightful kind, as each did their best to completely distract the other from their task. Mouths and hands caressed and fondled bare flesh until Jack shuddered and pulled away. Moaning at the final stroke of his fingers across her skin, Sam raised her dazed eyes to his face as Jack stretched out beside her and pressed a kiss against her shoulder.

“That wasn’t how I wanted to finish this,” he explained simply, and she smiled in response, delighted with the passion and love in his expression.

“I need you now, Jack.” Stretching her arms out, she drew him into her embrace once more, parting her legs as he settled his long form over her body.

“I think we can arrange something,” he smiled, shifting his hips so that his penis rubbed against her slick folds.

Sam pressed her lips against the warm skin of his throat and trembled. Sliding one hand down between them, she grasped his thick shaft and guided him into her. A hoarse cry escaped her at the sensation of fullness and warmth as he sank deep within her.

Raising up on his elbows, Jack stared down at her. “Sam,” he whispered as though she was his only lifeline. She couldn’t bear the expression in his eyes; it was too much, like gazing directly into the sun. Wrapping her arms and legs more tightly around him, she raised her hips to his, urging him into a steady rhythm.

It wasn’t perfect right away. She scratched his back a little too firmly with her fingernails and he winced. He failed to synchronize his thrusts with her movements, and slid out entirely, cursing with frustration as she merely looked up at him and laughed. After a moment, he smiled in reply, then entered her once more.

But, after the initial awkwardness, things began to go right. Sam bit down on her lip as Jack shifted his hips and suddenly the tension she felt increased a thousand fold. She moaned his name helplessly as each intimate slide of his flesh against hers threatened to send her to the brink of ecstasy. “Don’t stop,” she gasped, then cried out loudly. “Don’t ever stop.”

Jack’s only reply was a harsh moan against her throat as he began thrusting even harder. Sam frantically raised her hips to meet every thrust, then felt the spreading heat in her belly roar through her entire body as her orgasm struck without warning. Drowning in warmth and pleasure, she captured his lips once more, moaning into his mouth.

She was still whimpering from the aftershocks of her climax when Jack tensed and shuddered in her arms, crying out loudly and without restraint. She raised her hands to stroke along his back, smiling contentedly when the muscles beneath her fingers began to relax.

Long moments later, Jack raised his head and smiled down at her. The bewildered, lost soul who’d arrived at her house an hour earlier had been replaced by the man Sam knew and loved. “Welcome back, ” she whispered, suppressing the faint sting of tears.

“Thanks for finding me,” he replied, just as seriously, grabbing a blanket they’d tossed aside earlier and wrapping it around their bodies. Settling further into his embrace, Sam shifted and stared at the flickering light from the fireplace. For the first time in days, she finally felt warm again.

* * * *

From her warm nest of blankets, Sam idly watched Jack find his clothes and get dressed again. “What time is it?”

Glancing at his watch, Jack yawned. “Almost three in the morning.” After finding his shirt behind the sofa, he pulled it over his head. “I’m sorry I can’t stay--”

“I understand,” Sam reassured him honestly. As wonderful as their time together had been, it would be courting disaster for him to stay overnight. After a brief nap in front of the fire, they’d awoken and made love once more. And now she was watching him prepare to leave her. A small part of her was scolding her for not being more upset, but truthfully, Sam was too happy to pay that voice any heed.

The true test would be their reactions when next they saw one another, Sam knew. This evening’s activities could have severely negative consequences should they be discovered, but she couldn’t make herself regret what happened. The future for which she and Jack both so desperately hoped for might never arrive. At least now, they’d been able to share their love and their bodies with each other, even if it was just this one time.

Wrapping a sheet around her, she stood for one final embrace as he prepared to leave. “I’ll see you in a few days,” she promised, brushing her lips across his.

“I’m looking forward to it.” He hadn’t quite withdrawn into his usual irascible persona, and she cherished the brief glimpse of what Jack O’Neill was like when he wasn’t using humor or sarcasm to hide the melancholy that often plagued him. After one final hug, he grabbed his keys from the table and headed towards the door.

Sam didn’t watch him leave. Stretching out on the rumpled blankets, she pulled the comforter and sheets over herself, and stared into the dying fire. The scent of his skin and their lovemaking was still all around her, and her nest still radiated their shared warmth. Closing her eyes for what promised to be pleasant dreams, Sam decided that she’d go back to her bed tomorrow. At the moment, what she had was perfect.

* * * *

Sam grimaced at the pleasantly bitter taste of coffee across her tongue, and then took another sip, welcoming the rush of caffeine. Meticulously, she laid out her notes in front of her in preparation for the morning briefing.

Usually, whenever SG-1 was on a break, she had to be chased out of Cheyenne Mountain. This time, however, she’d enjoyed having time to relax and let her mind clear away the last lingering remnants of Thera. Not that her alter ego had been so terrible, she admitted. But it was good to finally be certain that Thera was gone. Things got confusing enough at times with Jolinar’s memories, she didn’t need yet another roommate taking up residence in her mind!

Especially when she saw the familiar form of her commanding officer enter the conference room. She felt the usual ache of affection, and smiled to know that the feelings she had for him truly were her own, not merely echoes of a created personality.

“Colonel,” she nodded, greeting him politely.

“Major,” he replied, just as seriously, taking his seat across the table. “Ready to get back to work?”

She welcomed his unspoken reminder of their duty. Work. Her research. Their battle against the goa’uld. Exploration. Not the totality of her goals, but close enough for now. And she had the memories of a few nights ago to ward off the fear that they would never find a better future. The conference room door swung open further as Daniel and Teal’c filed in, with Hammond on their heels.

“Yes, sir. I’m ready.”

--fin.